


Speaking of Errors

by m_class



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: (ie a redshirt but he survives woot woot), Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Original Character(s), Positive realizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_class/pseuds/m_class
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Captain Janeway talks an injured Harry Kim through his pain and reassures him that he need not blame himself for the occasional mistake, she begins to question her own unforgiving standards towards herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking of Errors

“Focus on the sound of my voice.” Janeway leans over Harry as he lies on the indigo dirt, bruised face twisted in a grimace. “I know it seems like the pain is everywhere. But it’s not part of you. It’s temporary. It came and it will go. Voyager will be back for us any minute now. Our ship will be back, and you’ll be transported straight to sickbay, and Tom will find something oh so _clever_ to say about our little excursion. I can hear him already."

His half-lidded eyes open a little wider. “Jesse.”

She gave this report a few minutes ago, but Harry was not the world’s most with-it ensign at that point, before she administered the single mini hypo of painkiller that makes its home next to a shot of adrenaline in a small pocket on her phaser holster. “Ensign Parks is a bit luckier than you, Harry,” she tells him again. “The alien weapon didn’t damage him any worse than you. Not one bit, Harry. But it rendered him unconscious. He doesn’t have to tough this out like you do.”

“Captain?” The word is barely more than a breath, and a long way short of a full question, but it’s not hard to tell what he’s asking. 

“I’m absolutely fine. One of the pulses nicked my arm, but it hurts less than the time I got Chakotay to give me a boxing lesson on the holodeck. We just need to sit tight,” she repeats, as much for a continued distraction from his pain and hers (which, okay, maybe hurts a bit _more_ than it did after her session with the Tattooed Terror, but is nothing compared to what Harry is going through) as anything. Even as she turns to give the unconscious ensign to her left another scan, she keeps speaking to Harry, loud and even, trying to give him a distraction to hold on to. “You saved his life, covering him after he was hit. You did a fine job today, Ensign.”

“My fault…in the first place,” he whispers, as she turns back to him, sitting back on her heels. “If I hadn’t…investigate…that crevasse…”

“Harry. Listen to me.” Janeway leans further over him, getting her eyes right in his own line of sight. “You followed protocol and your best judgement. It is _inevitable_ that you’ll sometimes act in error.”

He smiles slightly, tight through the pain. “Thanks…Captain.” 

If it's anyone’s fault, Janeway knows, it’s her own. She was leading the away team, so any situation they find themselves in is ultimately her responsibil--

Her words to Harry, so recently spoken that they still hang in the air, bounce irascibly back at her. _Protocol. Your best judgement. Inevitable._ Yes, she’s the captain, and with nearly two decades experience on Harry. That means she should make fewer errors. She can imagine Tuvok raising an eyebrow, pointing out that it is nonetheless illogical to believe she should make none.

After six years--longer, really--casual guilt is starting to feel exhausting sometimes, startling her with the way it itches, unhelpful and unnecessary, less a grave burden to carry than a scratchy sweater she’s outgrown. She can remember a time when she was sure her high standards for herself, and the rage reserved for when she fell short of them, seemed necessary and good. Slowly, over the last few years, that rage and regret have begun to simply feel like energy wasted. In a universe of planets to explore, Borg cubes to rob, and injured ensigns to distract, she’s slowly starting to feel that her brutal standards for herself weight her down as much as they push her forward. As much, or maybe even more.

“Hang in there, Harry,” she says firmly as the youngest member of her bridge crew clenches his jaw against another wave of pain.

After checking on Parks again, she tricorders Harry one more time, then asks, “Speaking of errors, have you ever heard the story of the time your intrepid captain knocked out power to nine decks on her first posting?” With a mischievous smile, she starts, “The day began like any other…”


End file.
